Logical Discontinuity
by authority02
Summary: During the final battle with Galbatorix, Saphira dies. Or does she？ Timetravel.
1. Chapter 1

A.N. - I've never read the fourth book of the Inheritance Cycle, so I'm just going to follow fanfic writers' tradition by completely ignoring everything that happens in it. Don't worry! I own and have read all the other three books, so everything should be at least 75% fine.

* * *

><p>Saphira fell out of the air like a bag of fertiliser, her wings torn to shreds. Eragon clung feebly to one of them with one hand and to his sword with his other hand. It was exceedingly painful, but Saphira, being mindlessly loyal like an average dragon, tried her best not to mind. Not to criticize her Rider for his utterly stupid tactics that were getting them killed - had already gotten them killed, because they wouldn't possibly survive hitting the ground. Not to -<p>

Forget this.

_Eragon,__ I want to tell you something before we die, _said Saphira with her mind. She could feel his surprise - she had never shown any sign of being a real person rather than a mindless pet before, she thought bitterly - and without waiting for a response to her sudden display of individuality, she continued, _You are an incredibly stupid and thoughtless person. I..._

Even though she'd broken free of the blind dragon loyalty, she still couldn't condemn him completely. He was, after all, her Rider.

_I... don't really hate you, but I don't really like you either, _she forced out with an effort. The air whistled past, sounding like the chirping of crickets.

Eragon looked up at her over the torn remains of her beautiful blue wings, his eyes full of tears. He probably would have said something suitably dramatic, but then they hit the ground.

* * *

><p>Saphira suddenly woke up, dizzy and nauseous. All she could see was blue, as though she was looking through closed eyes at a bright light - but her eyes were open. She struggled uselessly, then realized - her bond with Eragon was gone. The bond that transcended nature, yadda yadda, <em>was gone!<em>

She struggled harder. Suddenly, she felt something give way and a sensation of vertigo, followed by a painful impact. Soon after, she managed to crack her prison open with her snout, somehow, and stick her head out to see -

Eragon.

He was incredibly huge - no, she was small. She remembered being this size once, vaguely - but she didn't want to think about that now, because she could think about Eragon instead - she thought she'd never see him again, and seeing his cute confused expression made her feel hugely relieved. That face looked just like a baby dragon's face - well, it looked like what she would imagine to be a baby dragon's face, once she had seen it. He looked surprisingly young, his muscles were less developed and his beard was missing, but he was definitely Eragon. She sent her mind out in a questing tendril, and luxuriated in the feeling of his mind.

Eragon reached out tentatively and touched her, and she could suddenly feel their bond reforming. Eragon looked even more surprised, his expression freezing for a long moment.

Being part of an incredibly clever and beautiful species, she had an idea of what had happened already. Obviously, someone had carried out an emergency magical procedure that revitalized them, at the cost of cutting a dozen years off their ages, and then brought them back to - she looked around - back to Eragon's old room in his uncle's house to rest!

Hey, wait... hadn't the Ra'zac burned this place down?


	2. Chapter 2

Saphira quickly discovered that Eragon had apparently lost his memories. He didn't remember her name any more, for example. Or that she even existed at all. Using her superior dragon mind powers, she rummaged through his memories after he fell asleep - ethics are for humans, after all - and discovered that he'd lost all the memories since her hatching. She also discovered he had some really weird kinks, but she wasn't interested in that.

This was a huge opportunity. She could bring this iteration of Eragon up to not be such an idiot. She could... she couldn't think of anything else right then, but she was sure she could think of more eventually.

She wagged her tail. She'd never told any of the humans about this habit because she felt it was embarrassing, so she usually tried to smile instead, but nobody was watching. A long time ago, after much hesitation, she'd discreetly asked Glaedr whether he did it too.

He'd refused to answer. Hmph. Just like a male.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Eragon tried to stuff her into a small treehouse. "You'll be safer here," he said, after which Saphira bit him (lightly). After much struggle, Eragon had eventually managed it and left her sulking in the back of the shoddy construction.<p>

As she gnawed on the dumb leather leash, she pondered how Eragon's actions had been exactly the same as they had been the first time round. If you set a person's memory back and put him in the same conditions, he would do the same things. Imagine that.

Well, the first thing she had to do was to stop Eragon from thinking of her as an animal. Before, he had treated her like a horse to ride on and a cat to provide emotional reassurance - but never as an actual person. She could probably do this using a carrot and stick policy - reward and punishment.

She spat out the chewed ends of the leash and stepped out - brrrr, cold! - and retreated back into the treehouse. Eragon, you just wait.

* * *

><p>Eragon approached the treehouse quickly, glancing around in a highly suspicious way. He stood on tiptoe to peer into the treehouse, and Saphira leapt out onto his head. He promptly fell down.<p>

Saphira pulled at his hair with her foreclaws when he tried to shake her off, and snapped at his fingers when he reached for her. Even though she was getting dizzy with his spastic thrashing, she wasn't going to let go now.

_Stop it, Eragon! _she firmly commanded.

Eragon stopped it. He expressed his confusion out loud in a way that would be painful to try to type out, with the general gist of "Is this dragon talking to me?"

_I'm, uh, _explained Saphira, who then thought frantically for something to say that would make the dumb boy listen to her.

_I'm Saphira, and I'm the wisest, most beautiful dragon in Alagaesia. If you obey me, you won't ever go wrong. _she said, and flapped her weak wings a little to try and get a better seat on his head.

_Don't you dare put me in that treehouse again. From now on, you'll carry me with you at all times. Is that clear?_

Eragon, clearly intimidated, nodded. Mission accomplished.


	3. Chapter 3

Saphira clung on happily to Eragon's hair as he walked along. She had never tried this before, and she felt she really should have - it was exhilarating, almost like flying. Whee!

Her exhilaration was interrupted as Eragon annoyingly regained his nerve and started questioning her as he walked.

_You're a real dragon? That's so awesome! _he began, making use of anachronistic expressions. _How do you know my name? Can you breathe fire? Can you fly? Can you destroy mountains by stepping on them?_

* * *

><p>Even as she got tired of the questioning and got him to shut up, she realised that Eragon's uncle was standing in front of his house, staring at them. Saphira made a tiny frown. Wasn't he dead? And didn't that house burn down?<p>

"Good evening, uncle." Eragon said, politely.

There was no response. Eragon's uncle slowly raised a trembling finger to point at Saphira. (Not _that_ finger, I mean the index one.)

_Good evening, Eragon's uncle, _Saphira mind-spoke, imitating Eragon. She supposed the elf greetings wouldn't be very appropriate here.

Eragon's uncle - _Garrow_, yes, that was his name - continued to stare as Eragon walked into the house, with Saphira still perched on his head.

* * *

><p>Saphira curled up on Eragon's lap to think, while mentally prompting him to stroke her back. It was possible that Garrow had been cured by the same medical treatment that had been given to her and Eragon. It must have been a <em>really potent<em> treatment, since Eragon had remembered burying him twenty years ago. On the other hand, who would do such a thing, and _why-_

The door to Eragon's room burst open. Garrow stood in the doorway, trembling finger in the fore position, ready to dispense chastisement.

"Eragon!" he shouted, "I absolutely forbid you to keep a dragon in your room!"

He started to go on a lecture about responsibility, wild animals requiring a large space to roam in and not wanting to be hunted down by Galbatorix. Saphira decided she had to take drastic measures. She prepared herself mentally for the terrible action she was about to perform. Then, she leapt off Eragon's lap, padded over to Garrow...

...and presented him with her best sad dragon face. When he wavered in his speech, she propped up one foreleg on Garrow's ankle.

Eragon chose that moment to interrupt with a soliloquy on how he would never throw a defenseless Saphira out in the cold to fend for herself like that. Garrow finally put down his finger.

"Fine, keep it. And all consequences be on your own head, foolish boy." he said antiquatedly, and left the room. After cuddling Saphira a little, of course.

_Good boy,_ sent Saphira to Eragon.

* * *

><p>A.N. - I have, um, about 3 chapters of plot left. So! You, the readers get to suggest what Saphira should do. If I decide to use your suggestion, I'll mention your name, and you get a prize of twenty imaginary dollars. If I don't, I'll probably mention your name anyway if I have time. Send your suggestions in a review. Also, if there's anything I can improve, tell me too.<p>

Restrained . Freedom has made me remember that idea I got last night while I was falling asleep, and made some good suggestions too. I'm mentioning his name here.

I'm going to delete the not-chapter-3 later. If I forget, somebody remind me.


	4. Chapter 4

Saphira stared out the window as the sun rose. Eragon was getting ready to spend his day doing whatever (she didn't really care).

_Today, you're going to bring me out to explore this place a bit. Don't bother going to work on your farm or whatever,_ Saphira said, before Eragon could exit the room. She wanted, first of all, to find out who rebuilt the house, resurrected Eragon's uncle, and healed the two of them. Well, actually, she wanted to explore. Sitting in this room was boring.

Eragon nodded, placed her carefully on his shoulder, and went out.

* * *

><p>As the sun had just risen, only the industrious were in town at the moment - which was to say nobody. Saphira looked around, her sharp dragon eyes capturing everything. This place looked like the village - what's-its-name...<p>

A thought suddenly struck her. What if... this wasn't because of a mysterious benefactor? It would have been hard to wipe the memories of a Dragon Rider - no, he had lost his connection to her, so he wouldn't have that protection any more. It would also have taken vast amounts of magic to turn her back into a infant...

What if she had simply died, and gone to the afterlife?

Feeling incredibly inspired by this thought, she felt the magic welling up in her. That pesky dragon magic always did that when she felt inspired by anything. She hurriedly looked around for something to do with it - there! The Ra-zac, in the distance!

As the magical tension drained from her mind, a huge explosion enveloped the road leading into town. A miniature mushroom cloud slowly rose into the sky. Eragon, startled, froze and almost dropped her.

_I meant to do that, _she reassured him. So, the Ra-zac were in the afterlife too? Or could those have been imitations to amuse her? No matter what, they didn't exist any more.

"Can I learn to do that?" Eragon asked eagerly.

_Um... _

One of the reasons she had hated - no, that should be not-exactly-liked - the original Eragon was that he was arrogant and irresponsible. And he had been like that because he hadn't worked for his power at all - he'd activated his magic without training, he'd been able to defeat a master of swordsmanship, Brom, after a couple of months of practice, and he'd received his greatest source of power (her, of course) by accident. The solution here, she felt, was to make him work lots and lots before giving him a little bit of power.

_Eventually,_ she said, attaching a feeling of reassurement to the thought, _when you're ready._

* * *

><p>A.N.: Refer to last chapter's A.N.<p>

If there's anything that I can improve on, please tell me. If there isn't, tell me too, since it'll make me happy.


	5. Chapter 5

"Why are we here?"

Eragon was standing in a clearing in the Spine, ten minutes' walk away from his house, Saphira still sitting on his head. Pastel butterflies were everywhere, contrasting brilliantly with the vibrantly green trees. Saphira caught and ate one._  
><em>

_Today we'll be starting your magic training._

"Great! What'll I be learning?" he asked. "I'm going to blow Sloan up, that miserly bastard! And then I'll steal all his stuff, and I won't give it back!"

_You'll be doing tasks that seem to have no purpose,_ said Saphira, _but only because you don't know anything. Once you've learned, everything will become clear. Push that log.  
><em>

The mentioned log wasn't actually a log. It was the massive trunk of a forest behemoth, twice the size of Eragon. Saphira almost laughed out loud as Eragon's mind twisted in disbelief._  
><em>

"What -"

_You heard me right. Get to it, slave! Bwahaha!_

Eragon tentatively pushed the log. Nothing happened.

_Harder._

He braced his shoulder against it and strained with all his might. Unexpectedly, it shifted, breaking his balance and making him fall against it. Saphira fell off. Hundreds of startled butterflies filled the air._  
><em>

_Oh crap._

"What?" asked Eragon, looking around for danger._  
><em>

_I recognise those butterflies! They're the acid-spitting ones-_

Before Saphira could say anything else, Eragon kicked off from the log and landed running. With an apparently practiced stride, he sprinted off at great speed. The swarm followed, spraying acid blindly.

_Hey! _mind-yelled Saphira, eying the acid-spattered ground. _Come back!_

A particularly damaged tree creaked and tilted slightly.

She started chasing them, carefully avoiding the acid and cursing her tiny legs. _Don't leave me here!_

* * *

><p>The acid marks ended about a mile away, with the butterflies resting on a couple of trees. Eragon wasn't there. Luckily, his acid-burned remains weren't there either.<p>

_Eragon! _

Saphira felt Eragon's mind calling back from a distance. His mind-voice sounded weak and echoey. _Saphira? Where... are you?__  
><em>

_I'll be right there_, she sent. She ran towards the voice. It was coming from a deep hole in the ground.

_...vampire moles... help..._

Saphira gasped. Vampire moles!

...what were vampire moles? She tried to remember Glaedr's lessons on unnatural wildlife.

* * *

><p>Glaedr, with a pair of glasses perched on his snout, tapped the magical stone photograph with a claw.<p>

"Vampire moles are dangerous creatures caused by magical interbreeding between certain kinds of bats and moles. They were first conceived because the elves irresponsibly used fertility magic in their forest. " he declaimed, reading off the caption.

Saphira was flicking her tail and gazing intently at Glaedr's wings. They looked so warm and scaly!

"They stalk earthworms in their burrows, waiting for the right moment, and then pounce on them and drain them dry. Sometimes, humans or small dragons fall into their burrows. When this happens, there is a simple way to drive them away," he droned.

Saphira imagined daringly licking his wing. How would he react?

"Simply pretend to be a bulb of garlic," explained Glaedr. He illustrated this by sitting on his haunches and raising his single front paw and his wings above his head. "I'm a bulb of garlic!" he declared.

Saphira salivated.

Putting his paw down, he continued, "Their vision is terrible, so this shouldn't be hard."

* * *

><p><em>Eragon, you have to... uh... lick the moles? I think?<br>_

"What."


	6. Chapter 6

An hour later, Eragon staggered out of the Spine, glaring at Saphira. The moles, bloated up like little furry footballs, had eventually tunnelled away, swirling their little black cloaks. Eragon, less twenty earthworms' worth of blood, had crawled and twisted his way out of the pit.

Glaring at Saphira, he tried to say something, then winced. Saphira hurriedly blocked the pain from Eragon's mole-bitten tongue from her mind.

_Um. Look on the bright side? You could get a tongue piercing. Two piercings._

Eragon wouldn't know what a tongue piercing was, so she sent along an image of that hot elf girl Arya was friends with. She'd had some wild piercings, and some of them were really quite interesting. Too bad she had died.

Eragon glared at her some more. As he walked, he tried to brush some of the dirt off his shirt.

_You can't blame me for anything, _you_ wanted to learn magic. The path of a master magician is long and perilous, some wise bald old guy said that._

Eragon, too busy glaring at Saphira, stubbed his toe on a rock.

He sent haltingly but angrily_, Damn it, this utterly sucks-_

_Eragon! You learned mindspeak!_ Saphira exclaimed. _My training worked after all!_

_What- you- I- ARGH._

* * *

><p>When they reached the edge of the village, Brom was there, lurking under an apple tree. He looked straight at Eragon, flinched, and then saw Saphira.<p>

"Is it you, Garrow's boy?"

_Greetings, dragon, _he sent simultaneously. Saphira marveled at the concentration he must have had, to say one thing and mindspeak another.

Eragon mumbled something tiredly and nodded. A clump of dirt fell out of his hair.

_Greetings, Brom. So you aren't dead, after all?_ she sent privately to Brom.

Brom blinked, but controlled his expression and kept his eyes on Eragon. Not that Eragon would notice anything if he didn't, even if he hadn't been slightly anemic at that moment; he was rather an unobservant person. _What?__  
><em>

Without showing any sign of his surprise, he continued, "You must come to my home, and tell me all about your dragon. Where did you find him-"

_-her-_

"-her?"

_And I'm not Eragon's any more, not really. I gave up on following him blindly after he nearly killed us all._

At this point, Brom flicked his eyes down to look into Saphira's for a long moment. _Explain.__  
><em>

Saphira dragon-sighed. Some of this involved subtle cues such as a slight downward ear movement, a clenching of her paws and a loosening of her neck. The other nine-tenths of it was just the same as a human sigh. _ You forgot about the war, too? _

Brom turned to lead Eragon to his home, saying, "Come, and we will have tea. Keep your dragon hidden, or she will attract attention."

_Five years ago, we found that Galbatorix had found the name of the ancient language of magic. _Saphira said. _With his newfound power, he altered the language so that nothing but lies could be spoken in it, and sat back on his throne to watch the elvish culture fall into chaos. He found it entertaining, it seemed, and entertainment has been scarce ever since the Riders' Grand Library Of Pornography was lost._

_We sent an infiltrator to his lair, our best agent, to find the secret of the language. But it was a trap.  
><em>

* * *

><p>Gos, the Varden's best infiltrator, looked at the doorway, limned with grey fire.<p>

"Mission: success," he commented, stepping confidently across the doorway. Behind him, the fire turned blood-red. He looked over the room, his eyes slowly scanning from left to right. It was a pretty ordinary one, with touches of luxury that showed off Galbatorix's status. There was a bed, with red cushions and sheets. A floor-length mirror. A wardrobe, half open, with a display of ominously patterned robes and shiny crowns. A teddy bear, lying forlornly two feet away from the bed. A writing desk, with gold-plated drawers.

"If I were Galbatorix, where would I hide my secrets?"

It was quite obvious, really. Gos crouched down, reached under the bed, and brought out a notebook. The cover said, "Galbatorix's Diary - DO NOT READ", followed by a skull and crossbones. He smirked at his brilliance.

Behind him, a dozen guards waited outside the room, carefully avoiding the fiery doorway, their spears leaning against the corridor wall. One of them looked at his watch.

Gos flipped the diary open to a random page. The writing was strangely incomprehensible. He frowned, and squinted harder, but the words just didn't make sense. Some of the letters were the same, but some of them were mirror- reversed... Aha! It was in mirror writing! He held the book up to the mirror.

Galbatorix himself strode up to the doorway. His guards managed, somehow, to cower in his presence while standing rigidly to attention. Gos saw him reflected in the mirror, and was struck with sudden panic.

"Sorry I'm late," said Galbatorix, each step sounding like thunder, his ominously-patterned robes swirling around him, raising a hand to smite Gos down, "I was having lunch with a friend."

Gos didn't turn to look. He flipped frantically, his eyes flashing from page to page. Suddenly, he saw, in the blur of the flipping - "-the ancient language-" - but he had turned too far in his haste. Even as Galbatorix's lips formed the word of death, his hands jerked the pages back, and he read -

"The name of the ancient language of magic is -"

Galbatorix's magic flared, and Gos fell.

* * *

><p><em>...and I dropped out of the sky like a bag of fertiliser and then I was in my egg, hatching,<em> Saphira finished. Beside her, Eragon impatiently tried the tea (again) and flinched as his tender tongue got scalded (again).

_How do you know of this, dragon?_ Brom asked, and Saphira decided not to tell him her name, so that he wouldn't get all sad again like last time.

_You've got it the wrong way round. I'm _supposed_ to know this, and you would too if you hadn't died. You see, some mysterious person has been reviving all the dead people and rebuilding all the destroyed houses and putting them back where they were, and I'm the only one that remembers._

Brom pondered this for a while, even as he distracted Eragon with some cryptic statements. In frustration, Eragon tried the tea again, and found it cool enough to gulp down without making his tongue hurt. Brom refilled the mug.

_There is a traditional tale, passed down over many generations of storytellers, _he said. _Have you heard the tale of the Groundhog Day?_

_You told it to us when we were crossing the desert, I think. I didn't really understand it. Humans are weird._

_It goes like this...  
><em>


	7. Chapter 7

Without warning, a deafening screech rattled the windows. Eragon, twitchy from the tea, yelped and jumped up. Brom, on the other hand, acted with swift, battle-trained reflexes - and fell off his chair.

_What's happening?_ Saphira asked. She looked around frantically. The back of a giant, grey, tendrilled head slowly came into the view through Brom's window.

_Lethrblaka! We're being attacked! _she mind-shouted. _Flee for your lives!_

The head turned in their direction, then quickly approached, followed by its furless, haggard body.

Eragon ran to the door and pulled it open, then jumped back just in time to dodge a stomp from the giant beast. Seconds later, the monster tore the roof off Brom's house with a mighty wrench of a claw. Saphira felt a passing deja vu.

"Tim darling, come here and take a look at these ones," hissed the monster.

It pointed its forelimb at them. Up close, Saphira could see the blunted sharpness of its claws. They were dulled and scratched from frequent use, and dyed brown from frequent exposure to blood. She shivered.

'Tim', a smaller Lethrblaka a couple of streets away, made a flying hop and landed behind it. It cocked its head and looked appraisingly into the house.

"How do you know it's them?" it said, finally.

"They have a _dragon_. Look," hissed the larger one.

Saphira, frightened beyond belief by these huge things staring at her, shrieked and blasted it with magic. Yes, she had killed both of them once, but they looked completely different from barely a metre high. It was thrown spinning into a tree, which gave way and showered everyone with splinters.

"Dear!" the other beast shouted, and was answered with a weak "I'm okay!". It appeared to consider going to help, but shook its head and turned back to menacing Saphira and the others.

Saphira received a hasty _Great! Now the other one!_ from Eragon. She concentrated, trying to pull up the power again, but it eluded her. 'Tim' wasn't scary enough, now.

_Saphira! _shouted Eragon again. She slammed down the barrier between their minds, growling in frustration. Was a second of quiet too much to ask?

'Tim' loomed.

"Which of you killed my children?"

Brom shot a glance and a thought at Saphira. _Did you-_

_Yes._

"I will rend the flesh from your bones and-"

Brom stepped forward. He said, with a kind of quiet resigned grace, "It was me. I did it."

Saphira thought about this, and decided she was fine with it. Brom was weak - he wouldn't be helpful anyway, and his days would end soon (how long did normal humans live?) - so it would be a fitting end for him to give his life to save the young.

_Yes, it was him. Take him, and leave us, _she spoke.

Eragon looked at her with horrified betrayal. He clenched his fists, and stepped forward.

"No, he's lying," he proclaimed, "it was all my doing. Nobody else was involved."

Brom turned, and on his face was an expression of shock. It flickered to anger, then through confusion, and finally to fondness.

Saphira suddenly felt cold. She couldn't even _think_ about losing Eragon. The bond between dragon and rider went as deep as nature itself, woven into their very nature by magic. Eragon was _part of her._

_No,_ said Saphira.

All attention shifted to her.

_I was controlling his mind when he did it. It's my fault._

The Lethrblaka managed to look skeptical, despite having a completely unreadable face.

_Us dragons have mind control powers! It's true, I swear!_

The monster began, "But-"

_They screamed when they died, _Saphira improvised. She stalked forward and stared up into its eyes, trying to look intimidating. _When I made him tear them apart, limb to limb. I watered the trees of the village with Ra'zac blood. And I'm not sorry. Not even a bit._

Tears were beginning to leak from Tim's eyes. It raised a giant leg, preparing to claw at Saphira -

"No!"

The shout was from Brom. He stepped between Saphira and the beast, and he said, "I, I brainwashed them into thinking they did it-"

And the Lethrblaka screamed. The shriek bore into their minds, filled them, swept everything away and wiped out all thoughts for a long moment.

"I know you're lying," it said at last. A teardrop that had dripped onto the tip of its tentacle-whiskers fell, glistening.  
>"My children - my precious, murdering, dragon-killing children - you're lying, and for that, I'll kill you all."<p>

And then a cliffhanger happened.

* * *

><p>AN: 777 words exactly. :P<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

Brom shouted, "Run! I'll hold him off!" He pulled out a red shining sword with a ruby in the pommel and started fencing with the Lethrblaka.

Eragon opened his mouth to protest some more. Saphira said, _He's sacrificing himself so that we can live. Are you going to spit in the face of his sacrifice?__  
><em>

_"_He doesn't_ have to_ sacrifice himself! I can attack the - no, make a d - I can -"

_You can't do anything. _

* * *

><p>Brom was, with his great skill, forcing the Lethrblaka back. The combatants were moving so fast that Brom's sword looked like it left a trail of fire in the air, while the beast was half-crouching in a defensive stance, barely blocking each strike with its left foreleg's claws. Suddenly, as if by agreement, they leaped back at once.<p>

"Not so strong, are you, beast?" Brom gloated.

The Lethrblaka hissed angrily, before it suddenly broke into a vicious laugh.

"You forget that I have _two_ sets of claws, human," it said, lightly, tauntingly. "Surely you had not thought that I was left-handed?"

Brom's eyes widened in realization, and he lifted his sword just in time to block a vicious blow from its _right_ paw - and the fight was on again. The Lethrblaka stood on its hind legs, using its great height advantage to rain blows on Brom with both forelegs, while leaning forward to put all of its weight into its relentless attack.

* * *

><p>Eragon and Saphira were still watching and arguing. They looked like a pair of movie fans at a cinema.<p>

"We've got to help him!" Eragon repeated.

_You _can't _help him,_ Saphira repeated.

"We _can_! _I_ can! "

Saphira stared at him.

"I just have to think of a way! Be silent, dragon -"

_Don't_ you _tell me to be silent, little idiot- _

* * *

><p>Suddenly, as Brom was backed against the side of a house, his face became set in determination. He pulled out a glittering sapphire ring, engraved with a single rune -<p>

And the Lethrblaka screamed its mind-blanking call again. Brom stood still, paralyzed, as the beast smugly swatted the ring out of his hand, stabbed him in the chest, and struck off his head. Only after it was done did it stop the call.

"Who's weak now, human?" it hissed, putting its foot on Brom's chest and posing triumphantly.

Saphira stared in horror.

"Ow!" said Eragon, as the ring bounced off his head. He caught it.

_Run! _Saphira told him, and this time he did. When the Lethrblaka turned, they were already gone.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I own.

* * *

><p>Dragons fly with the power of natural magic, rather than with their wings alone. This is obvious, given that something that big could never get off the ground by itself. It is a little-known fact, however, that given enough impetus, baby dragons can fly on natural magic alone.<p>

Saphira glided through the Spine, feeling once again the thrill of flight.

"Did we lose them?" Eragon asked, running beside her. His legs were burning so hard Saphira could feel them.

Saphira listened for a moment, then nodded.

Eragon stopped and bent over, panting. Saphira landed, then experimentally tried lifting off again. Good - she wouldn't have to be hunted by monsters to fly again. She wouldn't look forward to provoking wolves, and not flying again until her wings matured was out of the question. She could already feel the desire to fly again welling up in her limbs - she turned her attention away and listened to Eragon.

"-food? I'm hungry." he was saying.

_You're a hunter, aren't you? Go hunt something._

"I need my bow and arrows," Eragon protested.

_Or... _Saphira had an idea. _I could try teaching you magic again._

* * *

><p>Saphira knew the latent magic in humans was activated by frustration. Brom had told them about the way magic was taught in the Riders' schools, when she'd gone through the loop the first time.<p>

"A series of pointless exercises designed to frustrate them," he had said, after Eragon used magic for the first time. "To infuriate them enough that they would use magic on their own."

It was obvious that frustration was some kind of trigger in humans. She'd made Eragon try to move the giant log back in that clearing for that purpose - but she'd failed.

Maybe she was using the wrong kind of exercise altogether?

_We need some daisies, _she told Eragon.

* * *

><p>An hour later, Eragon stood in a silly pose in a clearing on a rock - thoroughly checked to be clean of any dangerous wildlife - with a daisy chain on his head. The daisy chain, she'd told him, was made of special herbs that conducted magic.<p>

"This is humiliating," he muttered, fiddling with it. Saphira told him to stop.

_You don't want to break it, _said Saphira, using the mental speech as a cover to implant the word _brisingr _in his short-term memory. When he got frustrated enough, he would use the spell. That was the plan.

Eragon reluctantly shifted back into the pose.

_Raise your right arm higher. Higher. Now repeat after me. By the powers vested in me, in the name of the moon..._

Eragon chanted the words, closing his eyes and furrowing his brow in concentration.

_...Dragon Princess Prism Power, transform!_

Nothing happened.

_You're not trying hard enough,_ Saphira chided, giggling deep inside. _You have to focus harder on activating your powers.  
><em>

Eragon clenched his fists, took a deep breath and repeated the litany again.

_I thought you could do this, Eragon. I had high hopes for you,_ Saphira said, projecting a faked disappointment. She shook her head sadly. She put her head down on her paws and closed her eyes. Now for the climax of the plan!

_One last try, _she said, _and if you fail again I'm leaving you here._

* * *

><p>Eragon had always dreamed of magic. When he hunted deer, he had wished with all his heart for a spell that could let him bring them down without a chase. When he helped his neighbors on the farm, he'd wanted to wave his hand and bring the whole harvest bursting to life. Every moment of his spare time, he'd run to Brom's place to beg for stories, and the old man would smile and tell him about dragons, spirits, mysteries hidden in the unknown lands...<p>

He couldn't fail now, when it was so close. He wouldn't fail.

* * *

><p>Eragon gritted his teeth, and strained. Saphira could feel the strain from his mind.<p>

_Yes... YES! _she exulted, as his mind started glowing.

Unfortunately, humans can only hold things in their short-term memory for about thirty seconds. Saphira, being a dragon, could hold things for just under five minutes, being mentally superior. And so she made an unfortunate miscalculation.

Just before Eragon _pushed, _the artificially-jammed in piece of information, never having had a chance to pass into the other parts of his mind... fell out.

"...Dragon Princess Prism Power, transform!" he shouted, and the air _warped_.


End file.
